What's in a Name?
by Le Comte de Saint-Nicholas
Summary: A quick mini-story that's more or less canon compliant. When Halt is banished in 'The Icebound Land', Duncan, only naturally, needs his surname for it to be properly legal. And Halt's kidding himself if he thinks Duncan won't recognize the name 'O'Carrick'. Now completed!
1. Chapter 1

**In this disclaimer, I solemnly disclaim before any god who may be bored enough to be listening, that I do not own Ranger's Apprentice.**

'….Halt. Former King's Ranger to Redmont Fief. I hereby, as lord of this realm of Araluen, declare you to be banished from all my lands and holdings.' The voice of King Duncan of Araluen rang out through the throne room of Castle Araluen. 'You are forbidden, under pain of death, to set foot in this kingdom again…' he paused. '…for the period of one year from this day.'

Halt's head shot up. He stared at the king is disbelief, his façade of calm dropping like a stone. Lord Anthony began to argue about politics and precedents, but the former ranger kept his eyes on Duncan. He had expected banishment. He had resigned himself to the sacrifice; to do whatever necessary to find Will. He had prepared himself to have his life crumble around him while he pretended not to care. He had been in control of the situation, predicting the verdict, gambling with his life and a loaded dice. But in control. He had expected retribution, punishment, justice. He had not expected mercy.

He watched silently as his future was decided in front of him. He watched as Duncan turned back to him, and met his gaze, and Halt nodded once, gratitude, relief even, evident to those who knew how to look.

'Halt…' said Duncan 'There's one more thing. A relatively small matter. We've always respected your silence about your past. We've always let you be' he said, gesturing to Crowley and Arald to include them in the phrase. 'But I'm afraid, this is one time we can't bend the rules for you. This is something unexpected, and serious, and we need to do it by the book.'

'Your majesty?' said Halt, puzzled. Or perhaps feigning ignorance, thought Duncan. It was fairly obvious where this was headed, whether Halt liked it or not.

'Halt. We need to know your surname.' Halt was silent and began to stare at the floor again. 'I wouldn't ask if I could get around it' said Duncan, keeping his voice level and reasonable, 'but I've done as much as I can for you and without this it all becomes void'. Halt remained silent, having retreated back into his shell of quiet and barely hidden sorrow.

'Halt…' pleaded Duncan, and Halt realised that this was as unpleasant for them as it was for him. Any further delay or pretence would just cause them more pain. He looked up again.

'Your majesty…' he began, faltered and started again. 'Your Majesty…. My name is Halt O'Carrick.'

Duncan nodded. It was a Hibernian name, and sounded vaguely familiar. 'Thank you.' He said simply. Halt nodded to him. As Halt was led away, Duncan tried to remember where he'd heard the name before. Then, when it was far, far too late, when Halt O'Carrick was long gone, he sat bolt upright on his throne, startling Crowley and Arald, and said 'O'Carrick…My God!'


	2. Chapter 2

**You remember last chapter when I said I didn't own Ranger's Apprentice? Guess what? Still don't.**

King Duncan of Araluen had a problem. He also had an entire office full of pressing paperwork, a full agenda for the next four months and a bloodthirsty maniac in a black cloak running riot in Highcliff fief. So he should by all natural laws be in the same stressed and anxious temper as in the past few weeks. But he wasn't- and hadn't been for a couple days. First he had been shocked. Then he had been sad. Then, briefly, angry. Then shocked had reappeared with a vengeance. And now he was perplexed. Having to banish a close friend and then discovering said friend shared a surname with the royal family of one of the Hibernian kingdoms will do that.

Currently he was pacing his office, his books clicking on the polished hardwood. 'O'Carrick…O'Carrick…' he muttered. Surely there had to be a mistake. But royal names were guarded jealously by the tinpot royals of Hibernia as another feature to distinguish them from the masses. And if the name bore no significance, why had Halt hidden it all these years. For that matter, why had he hidden where in Clonmel he came from? It was a glaring reminder of how little Duncan actually knew of the man. Suppose… suppose he was a member of the O'Carricks of Dun Kilty. Say, a minor one, cousin of the King's uncle twice removed or something like that. It was possible, thought Duncan. It might even be plausible, given the evidence. Someone far enough away from the throne to be allowed to spend their time in the woods with an exiled former Ranger, learning to sneak up on people. Then something must have happened. Something serious enough to have the young lordling riding into Araluen, looking for a job. Why had he burnt all the bridges to his past in Hibernia? What had he done? What crime, what political coup, had dropped his place in society so dramatically?

No matter what, Duncan couldn't imagine the Ranger, grim and pragmatic as he may be, committing a crime serious enough to warrant exile. Actually, he amended, he could imagine that of Halt, with astonishing ease and vividity. The still unresolved issue of the fraudulent copy of his own seal that Halt had used on more than one occasion and that Duncan was still pretending not to know about floated to mind. What he couldn't imagine was the Ranger being _caught_ at it. Maybe something else had happened- something against Halt, big enough to force him to flee the country. And then an alarming though crossed his mind; what of the political side of the issue? To take someone who was beginning to look seriously like a political refugee and give them an official post in the service of the King, even unwittingly, would be a serious impediment to future relations with Clonmel, should they ever discover it. He sat down at his desk and held his head in his hands, his mind whirling with thoughts and suspicions and half-formed ideas. 'Why, Halt?' he complained. 'Why do you have to be some blasted mysterious?' and he wondered who he could ask about the political records of the O'Carricks.


	3. Chapter 3

**I have returned! (Hold the applause). Sorry about the long wait, life got in the way. And exams. Especially exams. Just to warn you, my chapters are generally ridiculously short, and I have about three or four more in mind for this originally-planned-as-a-oneshot story. So if it takes me a while to update, I will be continuing, just probably…very…slowly…**

**Also thank you to all of the reviews (and at least one threat) that have inspired my little brainchild to grow. I don't demand a certain number of reviews before I update, but they make me feel happy and pleased with myself, and we all know that that is the point to writing.**

'O'Carrick, you say?' wheezed Richmond, the Royal Archivist of Araluen. He was a thin, blading man with watery eyes and a reedy voice.

'That's right' said Duncan. 'I'm looking for someone in particular.' Richmond had been Master Archivist since Duncan was a child, and the pair were old friends. If anyone in the castle, or indeed the entire country, could trace Halt O'Carrick in the convoluted Hibernian family trees, it was Richmond. The man was known for being scatter-brained and forgetful about almost everything, but had an encyclopaedic knowledge of every important political lineage from Araluen to the Constant Sea, making him the perfect place to begin Duncan's search for Halt's true identity.

'Halt O'Carrick…Halt O'Carrick…' muttered Richmond, leafing through a dusty volume the size of a serving platter and causing clouds of dust to fly into the air. 'Ah-hah! Here we are, your Majesty. Knew it sounded familiar.'

Duncan squinted in the dim light, trying to make sense of the small and spidery writing. Richmond noticed. 'Best if I tell you, perhaps, your Majesty. The records can be a little hard on unaccustomed eyes.' Duncan nodded, and Richmond began.

'Well, an odd business it was, I remember, by all accounts. This was near on twenty years ago now, before you were on the throne, and Halt O'Carrick was a young man. In the prime of his life, fit as a flea and all of that. And then one day, he's out fishing with his brother. No one about, no guards or courtiers or servants or what have you. And all that's really known is that two brothers went out fishing that day, and only one of them comes back. The brother comes running back to the castle-'

'Castle?' asked Duncan.

'Yes, castle, Dun Kilty this was, (not many other castles in Clonmel) and the brother comes running up saying that Halt O'Carrick's drowned, and there was nothing he could do, and oh, what a terrible accident it all was. Now that river was like a millpond that day, not even a breath of wind, or so the stories are, and it was well known that Halt was a strong swimmer. But no-one's ever found him since, alive or dead, and if he was still alive, why not march back up to Dun Kilty before his brother got a proper toehold in?' Richmond sighed deeply. 'So that's the story, your Majesty. Glad to help.'

Duncan nodded, deep in thought. 'What was the brother's name?' he asked.

'The brother? Ferris, of course.'

'Ferris?' A terrible, horrible realisation was slowly dawning on Duncan. 'But that would mean...'

'Oh, did I forget the beginning?' said Richmond with a wheezy laugh. 'I swear, I'm becoming dafter the older I get. Yes, King Ferris' brother, this was. Halt O'Carrick. Yes, that's right. Oh...Is something wrong?' he said, realising Duncan was already gone. He peered after the rapidly retreating figure, then shrugged and returned to the book to its shelf.

Duncan strode towards the gatehouse, the revelation pounding in his mind. King Ferris' _Brother_? King _Ferris'_ Brother! Halt? It was dumbfounding, but at the same time made perfect sense. And it was worse than Duncan had possibly feared. The younger brother to a foreign King, fleeing the country after an attempt on his life by Ferris, the heir to the throne? He shuddered to think what this would do to the Hibernian peace talks currently going on right here in Castle Araluen. There was another possibility, of course, but it was too awful to contemplate. If this was wrecking relations with Clonmel, the other possibility was systematically hunting down the relations, laughing whilst massacring them, and then for good measure, killing all their children as well.

He glanced at the sun. It was not yet noon. Halt had had some eighteen hours of his two days to leave the kingdom. There was still time. He reached the barracks by the gatehouse, home to the messenger corps. He strode inside, causing all of the messengers to leap to their feet hurriedly, confused looks on their faces. Addressing the captain, who saluted crisply, he ordered 'Send some of your fastest messengers to all the ports within two days travel of here. Urgent message, order of the King. Prevent if at all possible the former Ranger Halt leaving the kingdom, and escort him back to Castle Araluen. Speed is of the absolute essence. Understood?'


	4. Chapter 4

**Uh…Hi guys…I'm still alive here…**

**So, I realised that I hadn't updated this in far longer than I thought, and so I tried to type quickly, and then a smart and discerning reader (Heaether Carrick) pointed out it should include Pauline, and so then I realised I should have thought of that and rewrote it all to fit her in…**

**So you can blame them, not me, that this is so late…**

**Disclaimer: Ranger's Apprentice is something I don't own. Other such things include my place of residence, a llama, and the moon.**

Duncan was once again perplexed. He was also once again in his office, although he was pretending not to be in an effort to hide from the officials, messages and important pieces of paper that tended to follow him around. He sat, staring into the fire. The messengers had returned this morning, bearing unwelcome news. Halt, with commendable speed, had left the kingdom bound for Gallica, dragging young Horace Altman with him. So ended Duncan's easiest chance of getting the plain and simple truth.

Duncan was determined to discover what had happened to Halt. He told himself it was all political, that he just wanted all the facts so he could be prepared for how angry Clonmel would be if it discovered he had given an official position to a political refugee seeking asylum. But if he was honest, Halt was his friend, and that was enough, and besides, his curiosity was starting to kill him.

There was a soft knock on the door, and he sighed. 'Come' he called, and was pleasantly surprised when the door opened to reveal Lady Pauline, tall and serene as always.

'Evening, Pauline' he said. 'Come to drag me out and make me deal with the kingdom?'

'Not quite, my Lord' replied the courier. 'Although several officials seem to be desiring to speak to you with some rapidity. Lord Anthony appears to be revealing to them that you left the castle several hours ago for a ride with only minimal company, and have not yet returned.'

Duncan grinned despite himself. 'Good old Anthony.'

Pauline paused, looking slightly uncomfortable for the first time. 'My Lord, I wonder if I might have a word?' She said, phrasing it as a question.

'Of course, Pauline.' Said Duncan, gesturing to the other chair in front of the fire. The Courier seated herself gracefully, declining when Duncan offered her a glass of wine from the decanter on his desk.

'No, thank you, my Lord. It's a little late in the evening for me.' She looked into the fire for a few moments before speaking, leaving Duncan wondering as to the purpose of her visit.

'My lord…I understand Halt was not successfully intercepted before taking the crossing to Gallica.' She began. Duncan nodded, getting a suspicion where this was headed.

'Are you wondering why I ordered him to be detained and returned to the castle?' he asked, and Pauline shook her head.

'I assume that that is in regard to his surname coincidentally matching that of the King of Clonmel's.' she answered, surprising Duncan.

'I didn't know that word had gotten out yet' he said, frowning. 'Did Anthony tell you?'

Pauline looked at him frankly and said bluntly 'I was watching the trial from one of the balconies.'

Duncan stared. 'But the throne room was guarded constantly during the trial. And I swear, I never once saw you.'

Pauline smiled faintly. 'I'm very unobtrusive. Also, I was on the balcony behind you. I wasn't going to miss it.'

Duncan grinned ruefully. 'Get you to train a group of diplomats as part-time undercover agents, and I suppose I get what I deserve. I should've know I couldn't keep you out.'

'Why did you try?' the tall woman asked curiously. Duncan sighed heavily.

'I thought it would be easier for you. And I wanted the bare minimum of people present for the blasted thing.' He sighed again. 'Still, you had something you wanted to talk about, apart from the revelations of your ability to sneak your way into the most heavily fortified room in the country?'

Pauline nodded. 'Yes. I know you're looking up why Halt has that name and what occurred to make him hit the road, and I wondered if you had any progress.'

Duncan shook his head in irritation. 'Very little concrete knowledge, I'm afraid. Halt's in direct connection to the royal line, but we all suspected that more or less since this business started. He went out fishing with Ferris-his brother- twenty years or so ago and the next thing we know Ferris runs back to Dun Kilty saying he's drowned and Halt is on his way to Araluen. I've spoken to Richmond, and really all he has is conjecture and hearsay.'

Pauline pursed her lips. 'Well, there is someone else you can ask. If you want the truth, sometimes simply taking the direct way is the best.' She stood, and walked towards the door. There the diplomat paused and looked back at the king. 'You aren't the only one with an interest in discovering Halt's truth. Goodnight, my Lord.'

After she had left, Duncan looked at door, his brow furrowed in thought. He had always suspected there was something between those two, stemming from the fact that, as head of the diplomatic service, Pauline should really be stationed at Araluen, but had requested specifically to be transferred to Redmont, without giving much of a reason.

He looked speculatively at his glass of wine, and then downed it. Pauline, he realised, was right (as usual). 'Damn diplomacy. Damn politicking. And damn you, Halt.' He muttered to himself, getting up and heading for the door. There _was_ someone he could ask. He was going to get to the bottom of this, and devil take the consequences.

He was going to talk to King Ferris.

Ω

**So as an apology for the delay, I tried to make this chapter a little longer, meaning it's only embarrassingly short, not **_**really**_** embarrassingly short.**

**Also, I am making a pledge here. I am being solemn and serious about this. I am signing it in whatever the cybernetic equivalent of blood is. I am **_**going**_** to finish this by the end of the month. Not one day into May. This do I swear by my name (and when you've got a long one like mine, that means something). This do I swear by Gods and Demons and all the stars in the heavens.**

**You can hold me to that. Until next time, dear readers.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice, and somehow I don't think John Flanagan is selling.**

Duncan knocked on the door of the guest quarters where King Ferris was currently residing. There was a short pause, before the voice of the King of Clonmel called 'Enter.'

He entered.

Ferris was sitting in a comfortable chair by the fire. He looked surprised to see Duncan. So far, they had only really come in to contact through official channels. 'Your majesty' he said 'What brings you here at this hour?'

Duncan recovered his focus with admirable speed. He had never noticed it before (having hardly ever seen Ferris closely) but now he was looking, he could see the resemblance to Halt easily. It was amazingly striking. _Twins_, he thought. Although, looking closely, he noticed Ferris never met his eyes.

'I had a matter of curiosity I wished to ask you about, your majesty' said Duncan smoothly, and if Ferris noticed his momentary slip of composure, he said nothing about it.

'Of course' he replied, offering the monarch a glass of Duncan's own wine, which he politely refused, and a chair, which he gratefully accepted. It had been a long day. 'I am intrigued to learn more'.

Duncan began. 'I was looking in my archives for records of the royal lineage of Clonmel-'

'Why?' asked Ferris inquiringly. There was no concern in his tone or expression yet, but Duncan was watching closely.

He waved his hand dismissively. 'Oh, simple curiosity is all. I had heard that the O'Carricks were a particularly old family, and was merely interested in their roots. I didn't want to disturb you with such an idle pass-time, of course.'

Ferris nodded, seemingly satisfied. He hadn't picked up on the easily-spoken lie. Duncan was _very_ good. Lying with a straight face was what diplomacy was all about, after all.

'Something a little closer to home struck me as odd, and I wondered if you could shed any light on the matter' Duncan continued, acting unconcerned. 'I noticed that the current family line had two brothers on the record. Yourself, and a 'Holt'.'

'Halt.' said Ferris bluntly, but without sting. He didn't look worried, more…melancholy, like he was reflecting on an old misfortune.

Duncan accepted the correction graciously. 'Of course. My apologies, the archives are often difficult to read. I happened to notice that Halt's line is cut off, but with no record of how or when he died.'

Ferris shifted slightly. Duncan frowned, and added 'If I am being impolitely intrusive, please do say so. It is a matter of no consequence.'

'No, no.' replied Ferris, with the hint of a sigh. 'It's no secret. Only a terrible shame.' He looked up, meeting Duncan's gaze briefly before dropping his eyes again. 'You majesty, as one man to another, I will tell you the whole tale, devoid of confusion or speculation.'

Duncan nodded his thanks, leaning forward. He was very interested in what Ferris would say now. The plain and simple truth was almost too much to hope for.

Ferris took a deep breath, and began. 'What do you already know?'

'Only that he was your younger brother, and he apparently vanished at a young age.'

Ferris shook his head. 'He was the elder, by all of a handful of minutes. Twins, you see.' He paused and then went on.

'The royal family in those days was never what you could call happy. Our parents, the King and Queen, argued constantly and bitterly. Marriages of convenience can be difficult. My little sister, Caitlyn, was just a child and relied heavily on Halt and me.

And Halt… he was heir to the throne. And, no doubt, he would've been superb at it. Politics was like a second skin to him. It came as easily as breathing. He had an aura of command and strength of mind and body that made him respected across the kingdom. Men followed him without question. Respected, followed…but not liked.

He was grim and taciturn, roughly spoken and coarsely groomed. Most days he went about looking more like the son of a woodsman than first in line to the throne. He was bright, mind you, but could be cruel. Nevertheless, I loved him as only a twin can. But I didn't understand him as well as I thought. I underestimated him.'

Ferris paused, staring into the fire. Duncan didn't break the silence, and after a minute the king continued.

'We were both about twenty, fishing alone on a small but quick river near the castle. One of our nets had got tangled, and I leant over to unhook it. Then, out of nowhere, Halt tried to push me in. He got his hand on my back when I balanced at the edge of the boat, leaning over. I turned and saw his eyes. They were cold and calculating and impossible to read. There was no compassion there, no love.

We started struggling. He was always the stronger of us two, and I have no doubt he would have succeeded in drowning me there, but for a stroke of providence. We were both at the very edge of the boat, see, and thrashing around like fish on a line. The boat rocked violently, threatened to capsize outright. I was flung down into it. Halt was knocked into the river.

There was one particular moment that I swear I will remember until the day I die. I had managed to stand up and the boat was settling again. Halt was standing in the river. We stared at each other for several straight minutes, not saying anything. And then he turned, waded out of the river and headed away to the south. I never saw him again.'

Ferris fell silent, shaking himself out of his recollections. The room seemed oddly quiet with only the quiet crackle of the fire.

'Why?' asked Duncan, shocked and confused both.

'Why did he attack me, or why did he stop?'

'Both.'

'Well, for the first…jealousy, to be brutally honest. Halt had power, authority, was a natural-born leader. But he envied the fact that I was the one who could get our parents to stop fighting. I was the bright point in their lives, and Halt, as so often happens, had everything and so fixated on what he didn't. He began to blame me for our parent's…favouritism. From there, it was only a short step.'

Ferris looked sideways at Duncan. 'As for the second, well I think the cold water cleared my brother's head a little. Snapped him out of whatever intense, desperate course of action he was trying to achieve. It made him think about what he was doing, and so the fog cleared. He could never have killed me when he was thinking straight.

And then he left. I don't know why exactly, perhaps he felt he couldn't face living under the same roof as the twin he'd tried to murder. Perhaps he couldn't handle one more little argument between mother and father. Perhaps he thought I'd tell people what had happened. Either way, he left, unarmed, into a forest that had bandits and wolves in nearly equal amounts. I don't expect he reached the other side alive.'

Ferris met Duncan's eyes properly for the first time all evening. 'I don't hold it against him, you know.' He said quietly. 'He was still my brother. He made some mistakes. We all do. And in the end, he made the right decision.'

Ω

Duncan reached his private quarters in a slight daze, moving instinctively as he thought over his meeting with Ferris. It had been convincing. Very convincing. If Duncan had not known Halt personally, it would almost certainly have succeeded. But unfortunately for Ferris, he had, and so Duncan knew that Halt, however young and impetuous, would never attempt to murder his own twin out of envy. Which meant…

It had to be the other way around. Ferris had the throne to gain-that was all the motivation he needed. _He_ had tried to kill _Halt_, and when it had failed and Halt had fled, he had thought up the story with the roles reversed. It must be the original lie he had given Duncan-Ferris had told it with the ease and polish of long use.

But _my God_, that man was good. He could turn lying into an art form. Duncan wasn't above appreciating a truly perfect falsehood when it was fed to him.

Still, he thought with some satisfaction as he turned with a grateful sigh to his bed, at least he had got the last piece of the puzzle now. Everything fit into place flawlessly: the flight from Dun Kilty, hiding his identity, Ferris, Halt…

Everything made perfect sense.

Ω

Eleven months and three days later, Halt O'Carrick stepped off of _Wolfwind_ and onto the shores of Araluen. Waiting for him was Duncan, his king. He looked long and searchingly at Halt, trying to find a trace of the man Duncan had discovered, the man who had fled his kingdom because of a brother's greed and taken refuge in the Ranger Corps. However, Halt's mask of inscrutability was impenetrable, and there was no sign to those watching.

Duncan looked at Halt for a long minute. Then he nodded once. Leaning in to the Ranger, he asked quietly 'Should I bow to you, Halt? As one monarch to another?'

Halt looked at him coolly for a moment or two. He didn't seem surprised. He raised an eyebrow in a gesture that was so _Halt_ it made Duncan smile almost despite himself.

'Please don't, my lord' he said. 'It would be very embarrassing.'

**Well, this took longer than I expected, but sometimes the unexpected does happen, like when your computer cable spontaneously catches fire with little glowing evil flames moving towards your hard drive with all your school work and most of your writing on it. There were…**_**technical difficulties**_.** I condensed two chapters into one, because there wasn't really enough content for two chapters when I had finished rewriting this.**

**Now we've reached the end, I would like to finish with a round of applause for all of the wonderful people who read, reviewed, and generally gave me the motivation to expand this. You hear that? This story **_**exists**_** because of you. A special shout-out goes to NymphadoraTonks11, who has been this story's staunchest follower through thick and thin, but no less appreciated are all of the just as supportive but slightly less vocal readers. You are all superb, and I thank you for the time and effort and reviews that you have fed into this fanfiction.**

**Au revoir!**


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